Brian
by Ryalla-Swiftwind
Summary: Alistair is surprisingly good with a babe.  Set before "I'm going to Stop Talking Now."


_How do we always get so messed up in everyone else's business? _Shaila wondered, glancing back to where Leliana was taking a turn carrying the newest member of the party, who was currently wailing at the top of his lungs.

"Give him to me," Wynne said her voice low and soothing. She hadn't had much luck getting him to stop last time, but Leliana handed him over willingly. The child had not stopped crying since they'd left the village. Their experience with babies was very limited, and they'd not been able to quiet the babe.

Shaila thought back to how this whole mess had started.

The women had gone to the tiny village alone, intending just to trade for a bit of food, as their supplies were getting dangerously low. The men had stayed behind at the camp, cleaning armor, and making what repairs they could.

In the village, the women had found utter chaos. Darkspawn had attacked and decimated it. The few people left alive were gathering what they could from the little that was left undamaged.

"We have to help them," Leliana said. Shaila nodded and Wynne murmured her agreement.

Only Morrigan, typically, was in disagreement. "Are we to search out every village attacked by Darkspawn and act the nursemaid to them?" But she sighed and chipped in as well, going with Leliana to search the houses while Wynne and Shaila did what they could to heal people.

It wasn't long before Morrigan's voice called out to them, sharply, something in her voice that Shaila didn't recognize. "Shaila, Wynne, we are in need of aid."

They'd left the people who had gathered around them and moved quickly to the house Morrigan stood outside the house, her usual calm almost ruffled. Inside Leliana stood beside an open cellar hatch, holding a tiny baby, who was crying in earnest. "Did the villagers not hear him?" She asked. "How could they not have?" When they carried the child out of the house, they found that none of the villagers would meet their eyes. "How could they do such a thing?" Leliana asked. Shaila just shook her head.

Finally a young mother, probably around Shaila's age stepped forward. She looked at the ground, and wouldn't meet any of their eyes. "We just didn't think we could care for another youngling." Her face coloured and Shaila could see that she was ashamed. "The parents just moved here last month. They weren't related to anyone, and they didn't really know anyone." She gave a half shrug, shuffling her feet in discomfort. "We already have five under one with no parents, plus our own. We just…" she looked up and there were tears in her eyes and Shaila could see that it had been a heart wrenching decision. "I went down there and fed him," she continued a bit defensively. "No one else was going to, but I couldn't just ignore him. I'd hoped…" She trailed off

The woman held out a small package. "There's a couple of flasks with nipples on top and a few diapers and clothes," she said. "And we've tied a nanny goat over there. They had family over in Trudale. His name's Brian and he really is a sweet, sweet boy." Her voice cracked and she turned away.

And just like they had a new, very loud, member of the party. One that no one seemed able to soothe. They tried to feed him, but he would take nothing, finally they just moved as quickly as possible to get back to camp.

They were met on the road by the men, who had heard them coming. "By the Maker, what is that?" Bellowed Oghren, which only set Brian to crying harder.

"What does it look like?" snapped Wynne. "Surely you're not so far into your cups that you can't recognize a babe?"

Alistair stepped towards them, and at first, Shaila thought he was going to demand an explanation. To her surprise he reached out for the little babe. Morrigan, who had been taking a turn carrying Brian, eyed Alistair suspiciously. "Why would I hand a babe to an idiot like you? You would likely drop him, and then we would have gone through this fuss for naught."

Alistair sighed, and refused to be drawn into their usual bickering. "Just pass him here Morrigan. I assure you I am completely capable of holding a babe without dropping him.

Probably more to prove him wrong than anything else, Morrigan passed the baby over to Alistair, who took him with surprising competence. Alistair's face was soft as he gazed at the wee babe.

"Why don't you tell me where you ended up with this little one?" His voice was held soft and had a lilting quality that Shaila had never heard in it before. He turned and began walking slowly toward camp, an odd double bounce in his step. Brian continued to wail, but that didn't seem to concern Alistair.

Shaila explained about the attacked village and their discovery of Brian, finishing the tale just as Alistair reached his tent. "Okay, give me a clean diaper and fill one of those flasks with some fresh milk." Shaila blinked at this new, take charge Alistair, but moved to do as he asked. When faced with the baby, she was just as glad to hand over leadership. Leliana handed him some diapers, while Wynne moved to fill the flask, both also guiltily grateful that someone else was taking care of the babe.

Alistair changed Brian with quick, efficient movements. Where had the man learned this? "Can you warm the milk just to flesh warmth?" he asked.

"I think so," Shaila replied. "You'd better set it on the ground, just in case." She concentrated, using just a pinprick of power. It was still too much. The tiny amount of milk boiled wildly, and the flask cracked. "Sorry…"

Alistair had picked Brian up and was patting him with what Shaila thought were rather hard thumps. "If nothing else, we've plenty of flasks. Give it another try. And I'm not hurting him." He showed her his cupped hand. "It makes a really loud thump, but it's not hurting him." He began walking around the camp, looking astonishingly natural with the babe on his shoulder, still using that odd double step.

Shaila directed her attention to the second flask of milk Wynne had brought her. "Think you can do it?" Shaila asked the older woman. Wynne shrugged. "Probably, but you've already had one try to gauge power level. I'd probably do the same thing on my first try. Go ahead."

Again Shaila directed the tiny pinprick of power into the flask of milk. No boiling, no cracking. Good first signs. She picked the bottle up, finding it just warmer then flesh. She fitted the nipple over the top, fastening it down and then swirled the milk to cool it as she carried over to Alistair.

He had settled down on a fallen log, the still wailing babe tucked into a crook of his arm. He was crooning quietly to Brian. Shaila recognized a child's poem that some of the older children used to recite to the younger ones. He accepted the flask, and dribbled a bit onto the inside of his arm. "Perfect," he said, giving her a warm smile. He rubbed the nipple around the baby's mouth, but Brian seemed no more inclined to take it from Alistair then he had been any of the women. "Come on, little one, you know you're hungry. This will make your tummy feel so much better." Alistair shook a bit of milk into his palm and rubbed the nipple in it, then brought the flask back up to the babe's mouth. For a moment, Shaila thought Brian would still have nothing to do with it, but then suddenly, Brian seized the nipple in his mouth, his greedy sucking punctuated by small hiccoughes from the extended crying. "There you go. Not too fast now," Alistair murmured.

"Okay, give," Shaila said, quietly, while Brian continued his heartfelt sucking. "How do you know so much about babies?"

Alistair blushed a little. "The Chantry ran an orphanage right beside where I was staying. I used to sneak out and help with the babies." He shrugged a bit, obviously not proud of what he was saying. "I had a friend back at the Arl's who always had littles running around the house and I…I missed them. At first the sisters tried to shoo me away, but there was never enough help, and pretty soon they just accepted me there. I helped there for a long time before the brothers found out. After that…I didn't help anymore." Alistair's voice, though soft and gentle still, made it clear that he was not going to say any more on the topic. "Start for Trudale tomorrow?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

Shaila nodded. Morrigan, who had drifted near to them, listening, commented. "So we are to have more delays? Shall we ask nicely ask the darkspawn to wait while we deliver the squalling child?"

Tired of Morrigan's snide remarks, Shaila turned to her. "Would you have us leave the child in the woods to die of starvation, or to be eaten by animals, or taken by the darkspawn? Then all this trouble would have been for naught." Shaila echoed her earlier words. Morrigan sniffed and turned away, but didn't reply.

The day progressed slowly, with Alistair caring for the child, who needed to be soothed often, and everyone else doing whatever work they could around camp.

At dark, Alistair took to his tent with Brian. Just before she went to bed, Shaila stopped by Alistair's tent to see if he needed anything. "Come in," he replied to her soft call. Shaila opened the flap and froze for a moment. All her eyes could take in was the vast expanse of Alistair's bare chest as he leaned back against his bedroll.

He flushed a bit. "The sisters used to speak of skin to skin contact. I think they used to forget I was around. But they said that in cases of children that were difficult that skin to skin contact helped quiet the child. I figured there was no harm in trying."

"No harm at all," Shaila agreed around her suddenly dry mouth. "If you don't need anything… I'll just be going," She fled into the night, wondering what was wrong with her be finding it sexy that the man was so good with babies.

The morning dawned with all the adventurers looking rather bleary eyed. The baby had cried for a good part of the night, despite Alistair's attempt at soothing it. In the early hours of the morning, Wynne had gone in to take Brian so that Alistair could at least pretend he was sleeping. Shaila had heard Wynne pass her tent, and had felt a bit shamed, but had not felt prepared to face his bared chest again.

Trudale lay a hard day's travel to the west, and they traveled as quickly as possible allowing for the baby and the goat. Stops were more frequent then they wanted, but there was little that could be done about it. Finally, late in the night, they saw the glow indicating a town.

With relief, they stumbled wearily into the town and made for the inn. The others gathered at a table and ordered food and drink while Shaila and Alistair went to speak to the barkeep. "Is there a Greenhunter family here?" they asked.

"Why'er'ya askin'?" was the barkeeps gruff reply, his eyes narrowed. Shaila and Alistair glanced at each other and shrugged. Shaila spilled the tale.

The barkeep's expression ranged from shocked to angry and finally settled on deep grief. He reached a shaking finger out to touch Brian's hair, then he turned to bellow up the stairs. "Lydia!"

"I be Jarred Greenhunter," the burley man said, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in Alistair's arms. This seemed a bit convenient to Shaila, and she watched the man with slightly suspicious eyes.

A woman Shaila assumed was Lydia appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Any doubts that Shaila had were soon assuaged for the women looked at the two of them, then down Brian. The instant that she saw him, her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh," she gasped. "He's the picture of Luca." Her eyes flew to her husbands, filled with questions and she quailed at the grief she saw there. "No," she whispered. "Oh no, not Luca…." She reached out for the baby, needing to hold a piece of her lost son.

"My thanks," Jarred said to Alistair, his voice rough with unshed tears. "Yer food and lodgings are on the house. Now if you'll excuse me…" Jarred moved comfort his wife.

Shaila glanced up at Alistair, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Without even thinking about it, he slid a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Come on," he said, and his voice had a suspicious catch to it as well. "Let's go eat."


End file.
